AP

‘and tonight in the light of the gathering rain, I could hear creation groan.

and a sigh rose up from the streets of the city to the foot of heaven’s throne.

and the people hear the sound of a sweet refrain — an absolution in the fray.

it tells of the death of the one for the lives of the many

more than any picket sign could say.’

comfort in a prayer for mercy

“The Lord reveal himself more and more to us in the face of his Son Jesus Christ and magnify the power of his grace in cherishing those beginnings of grace in the midst of our corruptions, and sanctify the consideration of our own infirmities to humble us, and of his tender mercy to encourage us.

And may he persuade us that, since he has taken us into the covenant of grace, he will not cast us off for those corruptions which, as they grieve his Spirit, so they make us vile in our own eyes.

And because Satan labors to obscure the glory of his mercy and hinder our comfort by discouragements, the Lord add this to the rest of his mercies, that we may not lose any portion of comfort that is laid up for us in Christ.

And, may he grant that the prevailing power of his Spirit in us should be an evidence of the truth of grace begun, and a pledge of final victory, at that time when he will be all in all, in all his, for all eternity. Amen.”

—Richard Sibbes, The Bruised Reed (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1998), 127-28

[awash in hope]

“I don’t care if anyone comes for me,” said Edward.

“But that’s dreadful,” said the old doll.  “There’s no point in going on if you feel that way.  No point at all.  You must be filled with expectancy.  You must be awash in hope.  You must wonder who will love you, whom you will love next.”

“I am done with being loved,” Edward told her.  “I’m done with loving.  It’s too painful.”

“Pish,” said the old doll.  “Where is your courage?”

“Somewhere else, I guess,” said Edward.

“You disappoint me,” she said.  “You disappoint me greatly.  If you have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey is pointless.”

["someone will come for you.  But first you must open your heart."]

-Kate DeCamillo,

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane

I picked up this children’s book about a china rabbit while I hung out in Barnes & Noble the other day.  I’ve scarce read anything in any book so moving as this passage, near the final pages.  It appears one might have much to learn from dolls and china rabbits.

sunset and memory

I’m rather inordinately proud of a couple of these shots I got yesterday at sunset.  Dandelion seedheads now remind me of a certain night back at college spent with some of the sweetest girls I know, blowing dandelions in the dark, giggling, and just enjoying that moment.

I’m sorely feeling the lack of community at the moment, though I’m enjoying my family very much.  I miss my church and friends from back there.  Visiting a new church, trying out a new knitting group, and slowly building up new connections here.

I’m not really sure what I’m doing anymore or what this path is supposed to be, the one the Lord has suddenly diverted my life down.  It’s lonely, for now, and a bit scary.  But the uncertainty is also rather exciting and certainly the testing of my faith has begun to produce patience, as my Lord promised.

[the right words]

I’ve been absent here a long time;  graduating from college, moving back to Kansas City, finding a job, trying to reconnect.  I’m committing to shoot more pictures, write more words, and to be more faithful about blogging.  Today, the only thing I want to share is this song by Sara Groves.  I first heard it five minutes ago and the words pierced my heart.  After reading the lyrics, you may understand:

Tuxedo in the closet, gold band in a box
Two days from the altar she went and called the whole thing off
What he thought he wanted, what he got instead
Leaves him broken and grateful

I passed understanding a long, long time ago
And the simple home of systems and answers we all know
What I thought I wanted, what I got instead
Leaves me broken and somehow peaceful

I keep wanting you to be fair
But that’s not what you said
I want certain answers to these prayers
But that’s not what you said

When I get to heaven I’m gonna go find Job
I want to ask a few hard questions, I want to know what he knows
About what it is he wanted and what he got instead
How to be broken and faithful

What I thought I wanted
What I thought I wanted
What I thought I wanted
What I thought I wanted

Staring in the water like Aesops foolish dog
I can’t help but reflect on what it was I almost lost
What it I thought I wanted, what I got instead
Leaves me broken and grateful

I’m broken and grateful
I want to be broken and grateful
I want to be broken, peaceful, faithful, grateful, grateful
I want to be broken, peaceful, faithful, grateful, grateful

You can listen to the entire song here. Or buy the CD and support Sara — I saw her in concert last summer and she’s an absolutely lovely person.

on creative genius

I just listened to this extraordinary talk by Elizabeth Gilbert at TED 2009 for the second time.  If you have a spare 20 minutes, you will not regret taking the time to listen to it as well — she is quite funny & articulate and speaks on a fascinating topic, the nature of creativity.

Gilbert gives a whirlwind tour through the history of Western thought on creativity and its origins – from the daemons of the Ancient Greeks to the moment when humanists began ascribing genius to a particular person (‘he is a genius’ as opposed to ‘he has a genius’).  She believes that ever since beginning to place the weight of genius upon the shoulders of individuals, the creative community has suffered under this heavy load of responsibility.  Noting the otherworldly power that visits ‘works of genius’, she argues that genius is not in fact owned by any person, but on loan for a brief time, like a train rushing through a station.

Gilbert expresses her ideas far better than I can.  And she gets in a Harry Potter reference to boot.  Some favorite quotes:

“I am afraid of many things that people don’t know about – like seaweed.”

“The meddling capriciousness of the creative process can feel paranormal.”

As the Moors entered Southern Spain, the ovation of “Allah, Allah!” became “Olé, Olé!”

…

…

Do you not know, have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God

The Creator of the ends of the earth

He will not grow tired or weary

His understanding no one can fathom

He gives strength to the weary

And increases the power of the weak

Even youths grow tired and weary

And young men stumble and fall

But those who hope in the Lord

Will renew their strength

They will soar on wings like eagles

they will run and not get weary

They will walk and not be faint.

as kingfishers catch fire

Sorry [sort of] about the stereotypical song-lyric-post preceding this one.  Sometimes lyrics just describe a situation too perfectly to be ignored.

My pastor preached the entire book of Song of Solomon in one message this morning and it was pretty underwhelming compared to Mark Driscoll.

I struggle against bitterness and fear and loneliness daily.  My dad prayed for me today, that there would be light at the end of this tunnel.  I sit alone and wonder when it will appear.

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

I say more: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is –
Christ. For Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

- Gerard Manley Hopkins

morning

I don’t seem to be able to pull together cohesive ideas into a thematic post, no matter how hard I aspire to be one of those bloggers.  I’m just not cut out for it, apparently.

I’m back at school, puttering around the empty apartment and planning my mode of attack for the heaps of cleaning waiting to be done.  At least the pile of dishes tells a happy tale — of a raucous, back-to-school dinner with good friends and plenty of spaghetti.

I need to get down to the business of finding a job and studying for the GRE this week.  Both of those endeavours could use some prayer.  After that, I’m concentrating on doing alot of reading and knitting and friendship-maintaining this semester.  Having fun with my classes [all electives!].  And slowly letting my Father begin to fill up the hole in my heart.

christmas

“Every Christmas is still ‘a turning of the page’ until Jesus returns. Every December 25 marks another year that draws us closer to the fulfillment of the ages, that draws us closer to . . . home.

When we realize that Jesus is the answer to our deepest longing, even Christmas longings, each Advent brings us closer to his glorious return to earth. When we see him as he is, King of kings and Lord of lords, that will be ‘Christmas’ indeed!”

- Joni Eareckson Tada, “A Christmas Longing”